It wasn't referred to as a "new beginning."
There were no deadlines, no pressure, and no declarations.
Just a discreet agreement made at Lorna's house over coffee in the morning.
She stirred honey into her mug and said, "We take it slow."
Michael gave a nod. "Don't rush. Have no expectations. Only... us.
Wearing dark jeans and a casual button-down, he picked her up just before sunset that weekend. He held a little bouquet of her favorite flowers, white peonies and lavender. Not a single red rose. Don't be theatrical.
As she accepted them, she grinned. "You recalled."
"I always remember," he remarked.
Michael drove them to the peaceful courtyard outside the Rosewood Art Gallery, where he used to sit anxiously before their sessions started all those years ago, in lieu of dinner at a fancy restaurant or tickets to something grand. prior to the masks falling. Prior to the walls breaking apart.
He remarked, "I thought we'd start where it all began."
Lorna's heart pounded with nostalgia as she glanced around. "This is where you used to wait before our appointments."
"And act like I wasn't anxious," he smiled. "You always seemed to know all of my secrets when you came in with that green notebook."
"I did," she jokingly remarked.
They were enjoying coffee takeout from the nearby café while sitting on a bench beneath the evening sky. The fountain in the vicinity gurgled softly, and couples walked by holding hands.
She whispered, "I recall how closed off you were at first."
Michael gave a nod. "Back then, I had no idea that I was lonely. Not at all. I assumed the silence would be filled by success.
Her face was tender as she gazed at him. "But in the end, you let me in."
He acknowledged, "And I never wanted to let you go." However, I had to mature first. I couldn't rebuild until I broke apart."
Lorna reached for his hand to make contact, not to hold on. "Michael, you are not the only one who has changed. I now know how to keep my peace. to express my needs. to extend forgiveness."
He wrapped his fingers around hers.
They discussed the past as something that had molded them rather than as something to relive. shaped them into self-loving versions of themselves.
Michael turned to her as the sun began to set. 'Could I take you out once more? The next time, properly. Perhaps you could go out with me to dinner so you won't have to therapize me afterwards'.
Lorna's laugh was warm and gentle. "As long as dessert is served."
"Non-negotiable," he smiled and said.
They sat in contented silence for a while, two people rediscovering each other not with urgency, but with intention.
Not rushing toward the future.
Just enjoying the slow beauty of now.